Bloody Damn Nutcracker
by OceanTiger13
Summary: Lots and lots of hurt Scotty. Angst. Bones and Scotty friendship.
1. Chapter 1

T for swearing and lots and lots of hurt Scotty

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek.

A/N: Yes, the title makes no sense except for the first chapter. The first chapter makes no sense except for the first chapter. Not my best work, but I figured I might as well post it and be done with it.

Bloody Damn Nutcracker

Chapter 1

"Ducts…ducts…why is it always bloody ducts? I hate ducts!" Montgomery Scott muttered as he crawled military-style through the air ducts of the smugglers' mansion.

A reply came over his radio. "I would advise you to keep radio silence until we have reached our destinations," Spock answered.

"Yeah, yeah, these ducts are a good three inches thick in all directions. I'm not worried. Oy, remind me why we can't jes' beam th' bloody thing out?"

"Because, Mr. Scott, we'll be beaming the entire place out with us. It has to be disconnected, first," came the voice of Jim Kirk. Scotty could hear the smile in his captain's voice. "And besides, it's fun to play espionage."

"At least you're on th' bloody dance floor. I'm crawling through a metal air duct searching for a reactor battery used to switch on a dilithium core."

"Jim, you should refrain from communicating with the radio as much as possible," Spock added, "as you are currently in the presence of our enemies."

"Yeah, yeah," Jim replied, "See you guys soon."

"Over," Spock said.

Scotty rolled his eyes, continuing to crawl.

***

Jim grinned as he stopped speaking into the tiny earpiece, adjusting his tie to make it looser. He stood and began to survey the scene in the crowded ballroom. Parties were so much fun. Especially gate-crashed ones.

He glanced towards the various exits, spotting several tough-looking men and women at each one, clad in varying classy-but-practical outfits.

The smugglers weren't stupid, he recalled, they knew how to run a business.

"Tchaikovsky," said a voice beside him.

Jim looked over to see Lieutenant Uhura approaching, a serious look on her face, clad in a long, flowing black dress and ballet flats, her long hair twisted into a tight, single braid.

"Can't you ever smile at me?" he asked her.

She bared her teeth at him, and turned towards the dancers. "Permission to speak freely, Captain."

"Shoot."

She made a face at him. "I hate you for making me do this."

Jim shrugged. "It was either you or Chekov and I preferred to let the kid not get himself killed. A little inconvenience for you is worth his life, eh?"

"You're Canadian now?"

"You're changing the subject."

"Well, it's obvious you're not going to make this a fair fight."

"You're afraid of verbally challenging me? You're the xenolinguist. Dazzle me with some brilliant Romulan proverb or something."

Uhura rolled her eyes and declared something in a guttural, sharp language.

"What's that mean?" Jim asked.

"It means, 'Your socks are filled with submarines'."

Jim stared at her, a blank expression on his face.

"Was that Romulan?" he queried.

"No. Klingon. If you can't dazzle 'em with brilliance, baffle 'em with bullshit."

Jim grinned. "Where's Bones?" he asked.

"At the bar. I honestly don't see the point of this, Captain."

"The point of what?"

"Being here."

"Well…if you need me to repeat the point of the mission—"

"Not the damn mission, the point of us being here. Nearly all of the ship's officers."

"Sulu and Chekov are still on the ship, aren't they?"

"And the rest of us are here!"

"Nyota, relax."

Uhura glared at him.

"Spock's rubbing off on you," Jim added.

"Do you have something to say to me?"

"Well, he's always nagging me about being a rebel. Not following regulation and whatnot. I'd like to tell him to stop being such a hypocrite."

Uhura's eyes flashed dangerously.

Jim looked up into the balconies above. "This is The Nutcracker," he announced, distantly, "I always loved that musical as a kid. You?"

Grinding her teeth, Uhura replied: "Yes, I did. And it's a _ballet_, not a musical."

"Whatever. I think this is that one song I used to like. Chocolate."

"The Spanish Dance."

"Yep."

The bright, lively music abruptly ended and the lights began to dim as the song changed.

"Coffee," Uhura announced, "the Arabian Dance." She started for the dance floor.

"May I join you?" Jim asked.

"No," she said, smiling, "this is a solo act."

Jim grinned. _She smiled at me_, he thought, and headed over to the bar where Bones sat, nursing a beer.

"You're skating on thin ice, Jim," the doctor said, not looking up, staring into his glass.

Jim opened his mouth to reply, then closed it and turned around, leaning against the bar. A look of surprise crossed his face.

"Hey, did you know Uhura can do ballet?"

Bones looked up. "_What?!_" he demanded.

***

Nyota Uhura's mouth twitched in spite of herself. She had never told anyone but Spock she was a dancer. The shocked expression on her captain's and Bones's faces was worth the earful of teasing she would receive later.

She turned gracefully on the spot, lifting her arms into the air as the violins' soft music flowed through the room of cons—smugglers, thieves, and pirates alike.

_Being here is a stupid idea,_ she thought, irritably, _but what the hell. As long as I'm here, I might as well enjoy myself._

***

Back in the labyrinth of air ducts, Scotty blinked, checking his schematic of the venting system.

"Spock," he whispered, "I think I'm lost."

"Where are you? Where was your last turn?" the science officer replied, quietly.

"Lemme see…was…a wee bit back…'bout fifty feet. I turned left."

"You're on the right path. There will be a sharp near-vertical drop before you reach the battery core."

Scotty's breath caught in his throat as his hands groped at empty air. His heart rate accelerated sharply and he plunged into the darkness below.

"Mr. Scott?" Spock hissed.

Scotty tumbled head over heels into the black abyss and landed hard on his back with a loud thud.

"Mr. Scott?" the Vulcan repeated.

Winded, he tried to speak. Only a wisp of air and a slight _aaaaah…_ escaped his lips.

"Scotty?"

Scotty gasped, sucking air back into his lungs. He coughed. "Spock," he rasped.

"Are you all right?" Spock asked.

"Thanks for your bloody warning," the engineer wheezed, slightly more stable now.

"I did warn you," Spock answered, tonelessly.

"Oh shut up. Are you at your end?"

"Yes. And you?'

Scotty rolled onto his stomach. "Ahh…" he moaned, scrunching his eyes shut in pain. "…Yeah, I think so…" He crawled into the next chamber, wincing as shooting pain shot through his chest. A dull greenish glow began to emanate from the center of the tiny room.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Yes. And you?"

"Let's get started."

***

Uhura sauntered back to Jim and Bones as her song ended and another one—Tea, the Chinese Dance, began.

"I never knew you—" Jim began.

"Save it for the weekend, Captain."

Bones grinned, taking a swig of his drink. "So, how do we know if they're done? Will we get a signal or something?"

Jim didn't respond. He was staring up into the balconies of the ballroom, watching two smartly dressed people talking to one another.

Urgently.

"Jim?"

Jim blinked. "What?"

Bones repeated the question.

The captain shrugged. "Spock or Scotty'll come up with something and contact us."

"I'm sensing this has not been thought out," Uhura said, apprehensively.

"Don't worry. We'll be in and out in a second. No one'll ever know."

That was when the lights went out, and all hell broke loose.

***

"Got it," Scotty hissed to Spock, "You ready?"

"Almost. All right. Yes. On three."

Scotty positioned himself directly above the battery.

"One," Spock began, "Two."

Scotty swallowed.

"Three."

Simultaneously, both men pulled the batteries out of their sockets.

"Captain," Scotty whispered, "We have them. We've got the batteries."

Static sounded over the radio.

A brief bit of sound cut through the white noise: "Scotty! Spock! Get the hell—t—there! Get—hell—out—shit!"

Static.

_What the hell?_ Scotty thought.

FZZZZSSWM!

The head of engineering nearly jumped out of his skin as some long range weapon shot a hole in the air duct just feel from where he was kneeling.

"Oh, bloody hell," he groaned, and started to crawl back the way he'd come.

***

"We have to get out of here now," Jim said, as he saw four heavily armed men and women approaching in the dark red emergency lights that had been flipped on.

"I told you this was a bad idea," Bones growled.

"Never mind that now, come on!"

"Leave it to a couple of men to make me run for my life in a goddamn dress!" Uhura snarled, as the three of them broke into a run through the crowd.

***

Scotty's arms had begun to burn in protest as he squirmed through the duct towards the exit.

"Spock, where are you?!" he demanded, sharply, abandoning all attempts to keep quiet.

"Almost out," Spock replied, "What about the others?"

"The bloody thing's gone all staticy—you heard it!"

"The Enterprise's beaming technology cannot penetrate this building—they must be outside in order to be transported out."

"We can track their heat body heat signals from the ship."

Scotty blinked as he turned a corner to see the dim light of the outside world. Moving slightly ahead, he pointed his feet down the duct and kicked hard at the metal grille covering the entrance.

He pushed himself outside into the cool night to see Spock waiting for him.

Spock whipped out a communicator and spoke into it: "Commander Spock to Enterprise. Beam us up."

Golden circles of energy curved around the two men, and they disappeared into the darkness.

***

Scotty and Spock reappeared in Transporter Room 7.

Immediately, the engineering officer handed his battery to Spock and ran to the control panels. "Move!" he told a rather surprised cadet, who leapt out of his chair, searching on the screen for Kirk, Bones, and Uhura.

"There you are," he muttered, "Stop moving around so much!"

_Dammit,_ he thought. Ordinarily he was pretty good capturing a moving target, but all three of them were far too spastic to lock onto.

He snatched a long-range communicator from a nearby cadet and shouted into it: "STOP MOVING, CAPTAIN!"

"I'M DOING THE BEST I CAN, SCOTTY!" Jim howled back.

Abruptly, both Bones and Uhura's signals slowed a bit, then stopped.

Taking advantage of the situation, Scotty energized them both.

Seconds later they appeared, breathing hard.

"Where the hell is Jim?!" Bones demanded.

"The bloody idiot's moving too much!" Scotty snarled.

Bones grabbed the communicator. "JIM, FREEZE!"

Kirk's signal froze in place.

Shocked, the engineering officer hit the button.

Golden circles of energy began to appear in the transporter.

Silence fell as slowly but surely, the figure of James T. Kirk appeared.

Scotty let out a breath of relief.

Jim grinned as he stepped off the transporter.

"You two got the goods?" he asked Scotty and Spock.

"Yes," Spock announced, holding up the two batteries.

"Ok, then. We've got ourselves a ship to save," he replied, "Scotty, get these installed immediately. Bones, prepare sickbay to receive patients of the U.S.S. Madeleine. The rest of you to the bridge. Good job, guys."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Interlude: Captain's Log

Stardate 2258.62

_We have received word of a distress signal nearly from the U.S.S. Madeleine. Being the only ship in range, we have made the decision of launching a rescue mission. Unfortunately, the Enterprise is currently undergoing repairs from our last encounter with the Klingons. We need to…secure new batteries to recharge the activation of the dilithium core in order to power the ship's engines, as I have been informed by Chief of Engineering Montgomery Scotty. We are planning to secure them from a certain smugglers' hideout on the nearby planet Nilai Seven. My First Officer, Commander Spock, has reminded me that this is against regulation, and I acknowledge that, but the way I see things, A: the crew of the Madeleine is in danger, and B: the smugglers probably stole those batteries in the first place. If I had the opportunity, I would be giving the order to capture their outpost as we speak. Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise out._

***

Engineering deck six, en route to the U.S.S. Madeleine.

Scotty winced as he stood from his seat in the transporter room. _Dammit,_ Spock, he thought, starting carefully for his tiny office, _could've warned me about that damn drop…oww…a bit sooner…_

"Sir, are you all right?" one of the nearby cadets asked.

"M'fine," he replied, hoarsely, slowly hobbling out of the room.

"Sir, you look like you're about to collapse," the cadet said, "You should see Dr. McCoy."

"I just need a minute or two of rest! Calm down," he snapped, irritably, trying to straighten up.

More pain shot through his lungs and back as he bent back over, making his way to his office and gingerly taking a seat on the couch.

_You should get that looked at,_ a voice in his head told him, quietly.

_Shut up,_ Scotty thought.

A knock came at the door.

"S'open," he called.

Spock entered, his normally grave expression on his face. "Are you all right?"

"Honestly, why is everybody askin' me that?" Scotty demanded, "I'm fine."

"You are not fine. You fell twenty feet straight down and landed flat on your back."

"No thanks to you."

"One of the cadets in Transporter Room 7 was cornered."

"Was it tha' little dark haired girl? She's a bloody hypochondriac if y'ask me."

"You can barely walk. Are you experiencing pain?"

"Changing th'way ye ask th' question won't make me answer any differently."

"So you are imitating an old, crotchety man with a back problem for no reason?"

Scotty opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, then closed it again. "All right, fine!" he muttered, "I'm not ok. My back and lungs are killing me every damn time I take a breath."

Spock nodded, expressionless, then tapped his communicator and said, "This is Spock to sickbay."

"What can I do for you?" came Bones's reply.

"Please send a wheelchair down to the Engineering Deck."

"What? I can walk!" Scotty protested.

"Very, very slowly," Spock replied.

"Be right there," Bones said.

Scotty mouthed silently and furiously at the First Officer before crossing his arms and sulking like a child.

***

Jim Kirk blinked and did a double-take as Scotty was wheeled into Sickbay, a murderous look on his face.

"What happened to you?" he demanded, as Nurse Chapel wrapped a bandage around his wrist.

"I fell down a bloody airduct," Scotty snapped.

Spock, who was pushing the wheelchair, rolled his eyes. "He has a back injury," he announced. "I am recommending that he be admitted until further notice."

Bones stepped out of his office then, an annoyed look on his face, carrying a tricorder. He ran the machine's beam over Scotty's chest, huffing an irritated sigh.

"How far did you fall?" he asked, wearily.

"Twenty feet," Spock answered for him.

"Should've been here sooner," the doctor said, chastizingly.

"Why, what is it?" Scotty asked.

"The shock of impact has chipped bits of bone off your ribs which are now sticking into your lungs. Your spine has been slightly shifted inwards, which explains the back pain."

"…_Oh,"_ the engineer remarked, slightly mildly.

"If you hadn't come to get this treated the back condition could've escalated to type six advanced scoliosis, which is fixable, but a big pain in the ass."

"Ah." Scotty laughed nervously and humorlessly.

"Luckily, I can fix it. You'll be here for awhile, and you'll probably miss the rescue, but seeing as how at the moment you're completely useless, that won't be a big deal. Spock, for once I'm gonna thank you for being a pushy bastard," Bones announced.

"I will take that as a compliment, Doctor," the Vulcan replied, nodding, then left.

"Right. Get up," Bones said to Scotty.

Slowly, the engineer stood, grimacing with the pain. "So. How exactly does this get fixed?" he asked. Then: "OWW!" (As Bones injected something into his neck.) "What was tha' for?!"

"It's an enzyme that'll take the bone fragments back into your ribs and reattach them. The spine issue should right itself too, so long as you're on your stomach when it happens. But it's gonna hurt like hell, so I'm going to sedate you and stock you up on painkillers."

"Right…okay."

Scotty sluggishly made his way to one of the nearby cots and laid down on his stomach.

"Count down from ten," Bones said, injecting something else into the engineer's neck.

Scotty took a breath. "Ten," he began, "Nine. Eight…"

Slowly, his eyes fluttered shut.

"Patients," Bones muttered, and walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Scotty drifted in and out of consciousness as the day wore on, listening to the muted, dreamlike noises of activity in the infirmary—voices, beeping of heart monitors, springing of hyposprays injecting medicine into people, paddles charging to restart hearts…

He didn't try to move because of the dizziness in his head, bordering on the point of nausea.

_S' like a dream… _he thought, tipsily, _but sort of like being drunk too…no wonder alcohol's classed as a depressant drug._

Voices. Nearby.

"I DON'T WANT A FUCKING SURGERY! NO! NO SURGERY!" a hysterical woman's voice shrieked.

"Calm down, Lieutenant, we're not doing a surgery!" Bones roared back. "We can't operate that far in; we're just trying to give you a sedative so you can relax for awhile!"

"NO! NO! NO SURGERY! NO DRILLS! NO! NO…no…nuh…no…surg…"

"Good god," proclaimed another voice, "is it that far along?"

"She'll be dead within the week," Bones said, quietly, "The most we can do is make her comfortable."

_Who, I wonder?_ Scotty thought, dazedly.

Then everything swirled into darkness again.

***

Things were quieter when he awoke.

Scotty blinked his eyes open to the view of a white pillow very close to his face. One of his arms, he noted as he brought them to his sides to sit up, had fallen asleep. He shook his head to clear it and moved into a sitting position, wiping a line of drool from the corner of his mouth. Someone had draped a blanket over him as he slept.

Adjusting to the bright light of the infirmary, he blinked again.

"Ah, you're awake," Bones said, approaching him.

"What'd I miss?" he asked.

"The rescue. And a good deal of drama when we encountered a Klingon warship holding the Madeleine hostage."

"What happened?"

"Kirk tried diplomacy; it didn't work, so we blew 'em to hell. Of course, the Klingons fired first, resulting in another batch of patients to treat," he added, bitterly.

"Any damage to the ship?"

"Haven't heard anything yet. Don't even think about leaving until I release you."

"Yes, mother."

"I'm not your mom; I'm your prison guard."

"Any idea who gave me the blanket?"

Bones shrugged. "Wasn't me," he said, simply. "Wait a few minutes for the aftereffects of the sedative to wear off. Then you're free to go."

Scotty nodded as the doctor walked away.

Yawning, the engineer swung his feet over the side of the bed. He wiggled his fingers around as they started to tingle painfully, glancing around the infirmary.

Many people were lying asleep in cots around the room, others were being checked over by nurses and doctors.

_Wonder which one was screamin' about surgery,_ he thought.

"You…" a weak voice murmured from nearby.

Scotty turned to the source of the noise, and his heart dropped into his innards. _Oh, god,_ he thought, wide-eyed.

"Susie?" he whispered, his stomach twisting into knots.

Smiling up at him from the adjacent cot was a pale, sickly, hairless woman, her lips the same color as her face, her eyelids half shut over bright, brownish-green eyes.

"Montgomery Scott," she said, hoarsely, "…never thought I'd see your face again."

Horrified, Scotty knelt by the cot, taking one of her thin hands in his own.

"What happened?" he asked, eyes wide.

"Stage five cancer," she told him, her smile growing. "I'm going to die, Scotty."

"No…Susie…you…I…you can't…"

"I can't what? Die? Who are you to stop me?"

"…Susie…"

"Everybody dies in the end, Scotty…I'm just going faster than everyone else."

"But…radiation…chemotherapy…they can't remove a damn tumor from your brain?" he choked on his words.

"It's next to my brainstem. If they wanted to kill me, they could try."

"But—"

"You should've loved me when you had the chance."

"Susie, I do, I—"

"Then why did you leave me?"

"…Because I love you."

"People don't leave people because they love them."

"I didn't want t'see you get hurt."

Then woman looked away toward the ceiling. "You had your chance," she announced, quietly, "and you blew it."

Scotty closed his eyes, and rested his head against the mattress, his throat tightening.

There was silence for a few moments, but for the gentle beep of the heart monitor and the general noise of infirmary activity.

"I'm…sorry," Scotty began.

"If you think that's going to change my opinion of you, you can—" Suddenly, the woman gasped and her heartbeat accelerated violently. _Bebebebebebebebebebebebebeeeeeeeeeeee…_

"CARDIAC ARREST, I NEED SOME HELP IN HERE!" shouted Bones as he rushed into the room, pushing a crash cart in front of him.

Scotty jumped to his feet, stepping back as the medics moved in with paddles and a defibrillator.

"Get those damn things charged!"

"They're going! …Clear!"

The defibrillator emitted its shock and the woman's body jerked.

_Eeeeeeeeeeeee…_went the heart monitor.

Scotty's view was obscured by Nurse Chapel as she moved around to one side of the cot.

"Charging…clear!"

Another shock, another spasm.

_Eeeeeeeeeeee….._

Nurse Chapel exchanged a somber look with Bones.

"…Call it," Bones said, quietly, reaching across the woman's body and removing something from her chest.

The heart monitor switched off.

"Susie…no…" Scotty whispered to himself.

But there was nothing he could do. He stood and left.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Two days later: Engineering Deck, Scotty's office.

Complete silence.

Normally, he would've been talking to someone. Listening to music. Laughing at some silly joke.

He sat on the tiny couch, staring at the floor, expressionless.

He had honestly forgotten how bad it was. How much it hurt. And not just mentally either.

Scotty had folded his arms over his stomach, trying to mask the feeling of snakes slithering through his gut. He closed his eyes.

Broken images flashed through his mind like camera shots behind his eyes.

Her pained expression as she saw him leaving. Her laughter. Her wearing her silly striped orange hat in front of Loch Ness…

Too much. He opened his eyes again.

A knock came on the door.

Scotty kept silent.

Another knock.

No response.

The door swung open, revealing Jim.

"Captain," Scotty said, standing at attention.

"Have a seat," Jim ordered him.

Scotty flopped back down onto the couch.

"Dr. McCoy told me about what you saw."

_Dr. McCoy…_the engineer thought, _he's using Bones's real name. This doesn't bode well._

"Since then you haven't been able to do your job, Scotty."

Silence.

"Friend of yours?"

Scotty's throat tightened.

Jim glanced out the window. "I'm signing you up for counseling."

"Counseling?!" Scotty blurted out.

"Well what did you expect?! You're sitting here on your ass, you can hardly concentrate on interacting with anyone, much less fixing the ship! It's ridiculous!"

"What d'ye want me to do?!" the engineer shouted, clutching his head in his hands. "I'm not a bloody Vulcan, I can't jes' shut this up and lock it away in a box!"

"I'm not asking you to. I'm telling you that unless you pull yourself together somehow I'm going to have to replace you."

Jim's eyes were deadly serious.

Scotty glared at the floor. "Aye, sir," he said, quietly.

"Thank you. You have an appointment with Dr. McCoy tomorrow at 1100 hours."

***

Sickbay, 1056 hours, the following morning:

"You want me to do _WHAT_?!" Bones demanded.

"Bones, come on! It's not like you're busy!" Jim pleaded.

"You might've told me about this yesterday _before you told him_!"

"You'd've come up with an excuse not to do it!"

"I can't be a goddamn counselor! Make Uhura do it!"

"He won't _listen_ to Uhura! You need to do this!"

"Why me?!"

"Because you're a doctor!"

"Medical, not psychiatric!"

"Listen. I don't have time for this. I need to meet with the Acting Captain of the Madeleine and I'm supposed to be there—" he checked the clock on the wall, "—five minutes ago! I'm begging you, Bones, just grab a stylus and a PADD and pretend to write down everything he says, ok?"

"What the hell am I supposed to say?!"

"I don't know! Make up some bullshit medical mumbo-jumbo! Put him on pills if you have to!"

"What's the point of this, then?!"

"You saw what he was like! Bones, he's losing it! I need your help with this. Please?"

Bones rolled his eyes and huffed a sigh. "Fine," he muttered.

"Thanks. I owe you one. See ya!" Kirk grinned and sped out the door as fast as he could, before Bones could change his mind.

Bones picked up his stylus and a PADD and glared at the door as Jim disappeared around the corner.

_What the hell do I do?_ he thought, irritably.

He stood there for a minute or two, indecisive, before finally walking into his office and breaking out two bottles of beer. He was waiting with one in his hand when a very depressed and disgruntled-looking Scotty entered.

Bones thrust the beer at him. "Jim told me about this five minutes ago, so drink up and spill it."

Slightly surprised, the engineer took it and drank.

"How'd you know her?" Bones asked, wearily.

"Sorry?" he questioned. This was not how he expected a psychological analysis to unfold.

"Good god, man," the doctor burst out, annoyed, "You are neither that good at lying, nor that dense. The cancer patient you were weeping over two days ago!"

"…Right," the engineer said, quietly.

_Stupid!_ Bones screeched mentally, cursing himself. "Sorry," he apologized, "That came out kind of harsh."

"S'all right. Her name's…was…Susan Wright. Girlfriend. Ex. Sort of."

Bones nodded, solemnly, thinking back to his divorce. "Y'wanna tell me about it?"

"Not really, no, but I don't seem to have a choice, do I?"

Bones shook his head.

Scotty shrugged. "Walk with me?"

"Sure."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Interlude: Stardate 2255.15, San Francisco, Starfleet Academy

"Sorry bastard!" the cadet snarled to his friends as they made their way through the crowded halls of the Engineering wing, "Can't appreciate the bloody value of a new opinion every once in awhile—always has to be right, doesn't he? Pompous old arse!"

"Calm down, man, it's just a disagreement. He's an idiot, yeah, but what the hell? Come on. It's lunch. Let's go get something to eat," one of his friends said, "You're twice the engineer he is."

"Well thanks, Ket," the cadet muttered, slightly mollified, "But I'm not hungry. See ye gents later."

The others nodded and disappeared into the crowd.

The cadet turned towards the flight training department, fuming.

_Fecking control freak,_ he thought, furiously. _I bring up one little possibility of bein' able to transport a life form to another planet and he dismisses it. Impossible, eh? Stupid bastard._

Quite absorbed in his mental lashing of his instructor, he didn't notice when the door to a nearby classroom swung open directly ahead of him, and he ran straight into it.

He found himself sitting on the floor, slightly stunned.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry, I didn't see you!" a voice said, sympathetically, "Are you ok?"

He shook his head slightly and accepted the hand being held out to him, getting to his feet. "Wow, there are hard doors here," he blurted out, just as he realized that the person he was speaking to was a very pretty young cadet with long, red hair and bright green eyes.

The cadet, realizing his mistake, went scarlet.

An amused smile curved the redhead's lips. "You're funny," she said, "I'm Susan Wright."

He shook her hand, managing a weak grin. "Montgomery Scott," he answered, "I mean, though, my friends call me Scotty. Jes' 'cause of my accent. Really. Um. Yea. Are you training to be a helmsman?" _Idiot!_ he screamed in his mind, _Of course she is!_

"I'm here, aren't I?" she asked, gesturing to the sigh nearby reading Flight Training Dept.

"Yea…I suppose tha' should've been kinda obvious…"

A short silence came between them as Scotty stared at the floor.

"Well," Susan said, eventually, "It was nice to meet you, Scotty. See you around." She waved as she walked away.

Scotty, surpassing scarlet and reaching crimson, waved back, his weak grin falling as she disappeared into the crowd.

_Stupid,_ he cursed himself, _You stupid, fecking idiot. Jes' brilliant, that was. Honest tae God._

***

"That's how we met," Scotty said, taking a swig of his drink. "She opened a fecking door on me."

Bones snorted. "That's pretty funny."

"It's jes' sad, is what it is."

The doctor shrugged. "My wife almost ran me over when I first met her. And when she left, actually."

"Women," the engineer muttered, shaking his head.

"Go on."

***

Interlude: Stardate 2255.35

It was pouring rain.

He was sitting in the flight training room, staring up at the transparent ceiling at the lines of water streaming down the roof.

_Figures it rains on a bloody Saturday,_ he thought, irritably, hurling a tennis ball against the opposite wall and catching it when it bounced back.

"Hey," a voice called, echoing in the large room.

He looked up. It was Susan.

"Hi," he said, as the tennis ball bounced back and hit him in the face. "Oww."

The redhead giggled.

"How's it going?" she asked, taking a seat next to him.

Scotty shrugged. "It's raining," he announced, pointing up at the ceiling.

"I noticed."

"Yea, well, that's me. Captain Obvious."

She shrugged. "Captain Obvious makes me laugh."

The engineer turned faintly pink, and tossed the tennis ball at the wall to fill the following silence. On the bounce back, it missed his hand, flying over his head.

Susan leaned back and caught it just before it fell down the garbage chute.

"Thanks," Scotty said.

"So…I was just wondering. You're an engineer, right?" she asked.

He nodded.

"So what are you doing hanging around the flight deck all the time?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. I jes' like it here. When no one's around, I mean, no activity. It's peaceful."

"You like peaceful?"

"Sometimes. When I need tae relax. Doesn't everyone?"

"I guess."

There was a short silence. Then, Susan spoke. Hesitantly.

"…Um…so…I was wondering. Somebody's throwing this giant party to celebrate their birthday. Gaila, you know, the green one, she told me it was open door, at somebody's house up near Sutro Tower on Saturday. Do you want to go with me and hang out?"

An electric jolt shot through the engineer's mind.

"Are you…" he began, tentatively, "…are you askin' me out on a date?"

Susan shrugged. "Maybe," she demurred.

"…Sure! Yea, a'course! I mean…yea. Sure," Scotty answered. _Bite your bloody tongue, you idiot,_ he thought to himself.

"Okay. See you next week, then." Susan stood, waving happily. "Oh, and by the way, my friends call me Susie."

"Sure. Susie. Yea. See you! Bye! Next Saturday. Um. Yea."

Susie rounded the corner.

Scotty smacked himself upside the head.

***

"So what happened?" Bones asked.

"Well, we ended up leavin' the party early 'cause everyone there was either drunk or high," the engineer said.

"I vaguely remember Jim coming home and acting really strange," the doctor said.

"You weren't there?"

"No. I had an exam the next day."

"Be glad ye weren't there. I think I was one of the few people who wasn't drunk."

"Who else?"

"Well, Susie. A few others I didn't know so well."

"…I see."

There was a short silence during which both men finished off their drinks and tossed them into a recycling chute nearby.

"We left the party early an' went to some dinghy little restaurant called Village Pizza. S' supposed tae be some kinda historical landmark or something."

"I've heard of that place. Never been there. What's it like?"

"I only went there one time, and it was at about ten o' clock at night."

"Right."

"…It was nice. We talked about random stuff. Didn't really go into much depth about' anythin'. I remember at one point we had a root beer chugging contest."

Bones snorted. "Seriously?"

"Aye."

"So…what happened then?"

Scotty raised his eyebrows. "What? Ye mean did we…"

Bones shrugged, noncommittally.

"No. And then, the following morning we had tha' lecture about the doggart poison…"

The doctor shuddered. "I had nightmares for weeks after that."

"Everyone did. After that, we just started hanging out, and it eventually turned into dating. One December break, I took her tae Lock Ness."

"Really?"

Scotty managed a small smile, losing himself in the memory.

***

Interlude: Stardate2256.358, Loch Ness, Scotland

"Scotty, c'mere!" Susie laughed, as the engineer filmed her on his camera.

"Wait, hang on a sec, I want tae get a shot of you in front of the lake in that hat," Scotty replied, focusing the lens on the redhead standing in the snow.

Susie struck a dramatic pose, lunging off to one side, holding a snowball up to the gray sky, a ridiculous grin on her face as she showed off the bright orange ski hat she'd been given a week before.

"Beautiful!" the engineer proclaimed, grinning.

"Done?"

"Aye."

"Good. Think fast!"

"Ack!" Scotty ducked as Susie hurled her Shakespearean snowball in his direction. "Not th' face, not th' face!"

"Attaaaaaaack!" Susie shrieked, sprinting at him.

"Ah, jeez!"

Scotty braced himself, open-armed, as she jumped into his embrace, her momentum spinning both of them in a circle before the engineer lost his balance and sent them both tumbling down into the snowdrift. There was silence for a moment.

Susie started laughing hysterically, a quirky, sweet laugh that, once started, didn't stop.

Scotty grinned. "I think I jes' got snow up me shirt," he chuckled.

Susie laughed even harder.

"Calm down, love, before ye cough up a lung."

The helmsman gasped for breath, then started giggling again.

Scotty shook his head and kissed her. "You've got an attack of the giggles or something."

She smiled, starting to hiccup from laughing so hard. "I'm—hic—just happy you brought me here. Hic!"

Scotty snorted, recalling her reaction when he'd pulled out the shuttle tickets. She'd squealed. Loudly.

"Merry Christmas, love," he said, happily.

***

Bones frowned at the engineer as the made their way toward the engineering deck.

"I don't understand," he said.

"What d'ye mean?" Scotty asked, confused.

"You had the perfect relationship. I mean, you were both completely smitten for one another from the beginning—that much is obvious," Bones remarked.

"Far from perfect," the engineer amended, "We fought sometimes. Jes' like everyone. Once we were on the highway and she almost jumped out of the car, she was so pissed."

"Sounds like my ex."

Scotty's small smile returned. "We made up after that pretty quick."

"What'd it take?"

"Two very public and pointless shouting matches, three one-night stands, and a very, very long chat at some bar with a lot of liquor."

"…That was a bit too much information than I needed to hear."

"You asked."

"So…awhile ago you referred to her as your ex."

Scotty's smile fell. "Aye," he said, "This is where things start tae go wrong."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

He was in full uniform, his face flushed with shame as he waited for his fate to be decided.

_Do they have tae drag these things out like this?_ he thought, miserably, _If I'm goin' tae be expelled, they might as well get it overwith._

Something told him it was part of his punishment.

_Stupid fecking beagle,_ he thought, _Should've caught a rabid squirrel instead. I wouldn't fecking be here if I had._

Of course, he hadn't been thinking. He had been angry at his professor for humiliating him in front of the other students. The old bat had no appreciation for new ideas. None. And yet, he, Scotty, was the one at fault.

Suddenly, the door before him opened and a very young cadet with curly, light brown hair poked his head out. "Zey are ready for you," he announced, in a thick accent.

"Thanks, lad," he said, quietly, standing and walking towards the hearing room.

Later that evening:

He stood on the Golden Gate Bridge, staring down into the depths of the ocean below.

"_You will depart in the morning at 0700 hours, Cadet Scott, and not a minute later or your sorry ass will be shipped back to Scotland faster than you can say 'haggis'."_

It was almost amusing, the way the Admiral had put it. The idea, at least.

But not quite.

Scotty stared at his hands, cupped over the ocean.

Resting in them was a silver ring.

He had read between the lines easily enough when his sentence had been read. It hadn't taken much to do so. The fact that a specific time limit had not been put on the punishment didn't bode well for him.

_Dammit, what is it with you and long distance relationships?!_ screamed his mother's voice in his mind.

_You were gone for five years, Mary! Five years! What did ye expect me to do?! Ye jes' up and got yerself arrested, for no damn reason!_ his father yelled back.

_Fine! Your own damn affairs are your own damn business, but I came tae see my son!_

_Get out of this house! Now!_

_Please, no more,_ Scotty thought. The figures faded.

Swallowing, he made his decision, and hurled the ring off the bridge.

It glinted in the setting sun for a brief moment, then disappeared into the ocean.

Scotty cursed himself and rested his head on his arms on the railing, his vision filling with tears.

0650 hours, the following morning, Starfleet Academy Shipyards.

The morning was warm, but gray and quiet. Humid. Miserable. Melancholy. Morose.

He approached the shuttle, a large duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He was wearing civvies instead of his uniform, jeans and a white, sleeveless shirt, not giving a damn about protocol, at least for the moment.

"Scotty!" a voice called from behind.

He stopped in his tracks, his heart sinking. _Shit,_ he thought.

He turned to face Susie.

"…Are you…going…somewhere?" she asked, hesitantly, staring at his duffel bag.

He stared at the ground for a few seconds, then nodded. "They threw th' book at me, love," he said, sadly, "Animal mistreatment, theft, illegal animal testing…helluva lot more things havin' tae do with animals…" He managed a slight laugh at this. "I'm bein' transferred to a research station on Delta Vega."

Susie's expression of confusion and sadness became instantly horrified. "For…how long?" she questioned.

"No less than a year, love, probably more."

"Were you…planning on telling me about this?"

Scotty sighed. "Yes," he lied. _No. Not in person, at least. _"I left you a letter on your bed. Listen, Susie, I've got tae go. I love you."

He took her face in his hands and kissed her for a last time, then turned and walked away.

***

Bones stared at Scotty, open-mouthed. "You're kidding," he said.

"Pardon?" Scotty asked, quietly.

"You broke up with the woman you wanted to marry in a letter?!"

"I…"

"Scotty, you coward!"

"ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT, I GET IT!" Scotty shouted, his voice cracking, "IT WAS A STUPID, IRRATIONAL THING TO DO! YES, I LEFT HER! YES, I BROKE IT TO HER IN A GODDAMN LETTER BECAUSE I COULDN'T STAND TO SEE THE LOOK ON HER FACE WHEN SHE FOUND OUT! YES, I AM A BLOODY COWARD, AND YES, I'VE FOUND OUT SHE HATES MY FECKING GUTS, AND YES, I REALIZE THAT I DESERVE IT!"

Bones involuntarily took a step backward, his heart pounding, instantly realizing he'd gone too far. He had never seen Scotty this upset before.

The engineer took a deep, shuddering breath and fell to his knees, sobbing quietly.

"Dr…McCoy?" asked a tentative voice nearby.

Bones whirled around to see Nurse Chapel standing nearby, holding a PADD.

"OUT," Bones snarled.

Hastily, she left, her footsteps echoing in the empty room.

Bones waited until he heard the slam of a door, then put a hand on Scotty's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean that. I was kind of…shocked. At you of all people."

"Don't apologize for that," the engineer said, shaking, "She'd've said the same thing."

"…There's something you should know," Bones began. "Susan Wright was under the influence of heavy, heavy painkillers and lucratives when you woke up, not to mention the fact that her brain activity was being hindered by—"

"_Oh, sure, blame the fecking cancer on what she said to me! Ye think it'll make me feel any better?!_" Scotty burst out, furiously.

"No. But you might be a little interested to know that before you woke up, she asked me about you."

"…What did she say?"

"Well…she was a little out of it, but she said to me, 'Is that guy an engineer?' And I told her yes. And she answered, 'If he doesn't wake up before I go, tell him I'll see him at the shuttleport with two tickets to Loch Ness.'"

Scotty began to cry again.

Flashes of his time on Delta Vega swept through his mind.

Screaming at the sky when he'd first arrived: "WOT! YE LEAVE ME ON THIS BLOODY PLANET, AND ALL THERE IS TAE EAT IS FECKING PROTEIN PACKS?! FINE! I SEE HOW IT IS, YE SORRY BASTARDS!!!"

Meeting Keenser for the first time. Teaching the little alien how to play poker. Getting beaten by the little alien in poker.

Drunken rantings about Susie.

More drunken rantings about that beagle.

Slowly losing it from hunger and loneliness.

Learning how to cope.

And the day that Kirk and the old Vulcan came and got him out of there for good.

Bones stood next to the engineer in silence, waving any passerby away with a sharp glare, waiting.

After what felt like an eternity, Scotty's flow of tears stemmed. He stood, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, sniffling, "that I had tae go all emotional on you."

"Don't worry about it."

"Is it possible for you tae keep this…between us? Please? I mean, I understand if it's got tae go on record or somethin', but—"

"My lips are sealed."

"…Thanks. You're a good friend, Bones."

Bones grimaced. "Don't disillusion yourself there, Scotty. I'm no saint."

"As if my track record's any better." The engineer gave a short, hiccupy laugh. "Sorry bastards should stick together, eh?"

"Yeah. Guess so."

"…Well, better get back tae work, I suppose."

"Want to get somethin' to drink, afterwards?"

Scotty's tiny smile returned. "Sure," he said, quietly.

FIN

A/N: Poor, poor, Scotty. *glomps* I felt like exploring his past, seeing as how he gets practically no love. Figured it'd be cool to show a side of him that wasn't all comic relief. Yays. Um. Yea. I gotta go now.

I LUVES YOU, SCOTTY!!!!!


End file.
